


You have to survive

by Anonymous



Category: ENHYPEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M, Sick Character, Sunghoon only has Heeseung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:00:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28587627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It's just - one day you're fine, the next day you're dying, the third day you're dead. Or not.Not everyone dies.Sunghoon didn't die.
Relationships: Lee Heeseung & Park Sunghoon, Lee Heeseung/Park Sunghoon
Kudos: 32
Collections: Anonymous





	You have to survive

The end of the world, Sunghoon has learned, doesn't arrive with a nuclear war or jets raining bombs over cities. It doesn't arrive by natural disaster, no earthquake or fire, no hurricane or drought. It comes by way of contaminated food, then famine, then by a plague.

It isn't like the stories in the history books, of the middle ages, with rats and boils and sores. It isn't like any drawn-out illness. It isn't the flu or any type of virus or the common cold. It doesn't have any outward symptoms to warn of its arrival.

It's just - one day you're fine, the next day you're dying, the third day you're dead. Or not.

Not everyone dies.

Sunghoon didn't die. Sunghoon came out of it with nary a physical trace. Like every survivor, the scars are in his mind. His head is foggy. He forgets things more easily. He sometimes doesn't know exactly what day it is or why he's holding a book or a spatula or an empty roll of toilet paper.

This is common, he learned. But he's, at least, alive. No one who's survived has been sick again, and that gives Sunghoon a small amount of hope. Less hopeful, however is he about those around him who haven't been sick yet. Worse, he sometimes can't remember who has, who hasn't, or who's already gone.

He keeps a detailed journal, lists of lists, scraps of paper he can refer to. He, like other survivors, relies on the healthy to exist.

"What I wouldn't give for pork," Heeseung says from the kitchen of his house, the one Sunghoon moved into - the one they all moved into together - after.

"What do we have today instead?" Sunghoon asks, leaning against the counter to watch Heeseung fix their meal.

"Just some ramen," he says, holding up two ramens. "It's the only thing we have now, Hoon. I'll make a food run tomorrow. I think the lines will be open then."

Sunghoon smiles. "It's a good thing I don't remember if I like ramen or not, then," he says, even though he's pretty sure he ate some the day before. Or maybe it was the day before that.

Heeseung's face falls. "You don't," he says, sighing. "But you'll eat it anyway."

Sunghoon knows that's true because they both have to eat whatever's available if they want to eat at all, and Sunghoon's gurgling stomach reminds him how hungry he is.

He watches Heeseung move around the kitchen. He heats up the noodles, arranges the seasonings, then later on puts the seasoning in. Sunghoon likes watching Heeseung, like this. He thinks that if this was 'before' instead of 'after,' maybe it might even feel domestic.

Heeseung's humming to himself as he watched stirs up both the ramens. He thinks about the way their lives have become entwined together over the last year, how Heeseung has become such an important part of Sunghoon's life, how he needs to say that to him before he forgets that he wants to.

"Heeseung hyung," Sunghoon says, and Heeseung turns to look at him, the corner of his mouth quirking up halfway to a smile. Sunghoon smiles back.

Everything that happens next happens as if in slow motion.

Heeseung opens his mouth to respond but before he can, his eyes roll back and he sinks to the floor, not gracefully at all but more like an accordian, collapsing all at once. His elbow hits the side of the plate, which is just laying around in the counter on the way down. Sunghoon isn't quick enough to get to his side and keep his head from hitting the ground, so it does with a stomach-rolling crack.

It's just the start, Sunghoon thinks as he gathers Heeseung into his arms and carries him into the bedroom, bundles him up in blankets in an effort to keep his temperature from plummeting. The shakes come first, Heeseung barely conscious throughout. Then the sweats and the fever. Sunghoon stays at Heeseung's bedside.

When he's half awake, sometime in the middle of the night, Sunghoon spoon-feeds him lukewarm porridge, forces him to drink water through a straw. He wishes he had tea or honey or ginger or anything that might help.

Even though as he thinks about it, he knows nothing at all will help. Either Heeseung will die, or he will live.

Sunghoon spends the next thirty-six hours in and out of Heeseung's bed. Sometimes he just holds a full glass of water up to Heeseung's lips and hopes for the best. Sometimes he presses a wet washcloth to his forehead, down the side of his neck, over his chest. Sometimes he lies there beside him, staring, willing Heeseung to survive this.

"You can't die, Heeseung hyung." he whispers, fingers tangled in the curls at the side of Heeseung's head. Sunghoon rubs Heeseung's back. "Please don't die." He can't tell what Heeseung hears and what he doesn't. He has no memories of his own sick days, only the moments before and after. Heeseung will likely be the same way if he wakes up.

When he wakes up. Because he's going to, Sunghoon tells himself. He has to. Sunghoon doesn't want to be left alone.


End file.
